


Missing Midnights

by woojinnies



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: 2park, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, House Party, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, Romance, brownies are v important to jihoon, i'm a sucker for 2park being soulmate best friends ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woojinnies/pseuds/woojinnies
Summary: Of new year kisses, countdowns, and brownies.





	Missing Midnights

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of rainbow rowell's midnights, so pls go give that a read!! it's a cute short story that's much better than this haha
> 
> for bu - thanks for being my cheerleader, beta, and mom friend all in one ♡

 

 **December 31, 2017 –** 11 : **55 PM**

Jihoon bursts onto the pavement, door slamming shut behind him. He glances over his shoulder, worried for a second, but the bass thumping through the door tells him nobody, not even Woojin, will notice his disappearance for a long while.

A strange wave of relief and disappointment washes over him. Mainly relief.

He walks down the stairs and leans against the wall, hidden in the shadows, so that if anyone walks out the front door, they won’t see him. But really, it’s almost midnight and judging by the undisturbed, marshmallow snow before him, he’s the only idiot outside at this time of the night.

Everyone else is inside, drinking, laughing, kissing.

The music cuts, and Jihoon’s heart instinctively leaps into his throat. But he’s safe now.

“ _Ten!_ ” Everyone shouts together, slightly out of sync. “ _Nine!_ ”

God, he should have thought of this before.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **December 31, 2014 –** 11 : **58 PM**

Jihoon laughs at something he doesn’t remember, but finds funny anyway. His eyes are on the snack table, not Jisung in front of him, and he’s trying to find a way to inch his way over to that last sinfully delicious brownie.

It’s not that he’s antisocial, but hey, a guy’s got his priorities.

Finally, he maneuvers his way around Jisung, who can honestly talk for days if anyone’s willing to listen, and makes a beeline to the table. Right as he reaches a hand out for the main reason he’s even here tonight, someone snatches the brownie away.

“Hey!” Jihoon yells, frustrated. All his hard work, all his patience, that whole hour spent listening to Jisung drunk, everything amounted to watching the stranger pop the brownie into his mouth. “That was mine!”

He knows he sounds childish, but Jihoon could care less when his stomach’s grumbling and the only thing left to eat is tortilla chips sans salsa.

“It didn’t have your name on it,” the thief says, raising an eyebrow. He has the nerve to _lick his fingers_.

“It’s almost midnight!” someone shouts. Probably Seungwoo, or Jisung, if he isn’t passed out somewhere.

“I was looking forward to those brownies all night,” Jihoon says mournfully to the empty platter.

“ _Ten!_ ”

“Didn’t you already eat, like, five of them?”

Jihoon glances up at the boy, who’s ducking his head, red bangs falling over his eyes. How did he notice? But Jihoon wants the boy to lift his head, so he doesn’t risk asking.

“That has nothing to do with the last brownie belonging to me!”

“ _Nine!_ ”

“You came to a New Years’ Party for brownies only?”

“ _Eight!_ ”

“Well, I didn’t come to meet brownie thieves.”

“ _Seven!”_

At that, the boy burst out laughing. A snaggletooth peeks out, and Jihoon can’t stop staring.

“I’m Woojin,” the boy says.

“I said I’m not here to make friends with brownie thieves,” Jihoon says, just to see Woojin smile again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **December 31, 2015 –** 11 : **53 PM**

“What are you doing hiding here?” Woojin asks as he plops down next to Jihoon against the wall.

Jihoon raises his plate full of food. “Eating.”

“What, no brownies this time?”

“Sungwoon didn’t have a chance to bake because of uni, so he brought store-bought,” Jihoon says, shaking his head.

“Ah,” Woojin says. “Disappointing.”

“What are you doing hiding here?” Jihoon asks. He leans his plate towards Woojin, who picks out some chips. “You were showing everyone off out there on the dance floor.”

“I needed a break.” Woojin plucks at his t-shirt, which Jihoon avoids looking at because sweat plus white shirt spells out disaster. “I also needed to persuade you to dance.”

“Not a public dancer. More a public eater.”

“You danced in front of hundreds of people at that showcase!”

“That’s different.” Jihoon makes a face. “There’s more choreography and less sweaty bodies against you.”

“You could have joined me on the table! I was the only one there.”

Which is the exact reason why Jihoon didn’t want to join him up there.

“I’m good. I can dance with my food. They’ll have a dance party in my mouth.”

“Fine, no dancing.” Woojin points at Jihoon. “But one day. I’ll get you up and flailing at one of these parties. Just wait.”

Jihoon laughs, already resigned to his fate. If Woojin really presses him, Jihoon would agree because it’s Woojin. But instead, they let it drop.

“So what have you been doing while you’re eating? People watching?”

“Yeah, fascinating stuff.” Jihoon points to where Jisung’s talking with Daniel and Seungwoo. “Jisung’s laying off the alcohol this year. Seungwoo’s trying to mess him up.”

“My bet’s on Seungwoo,” Woojin laughs. Jihoon keeps his eyes on Jisung to keep his expression under control.

“I’m not betting against you.”

“C’mon, make it fun.” Woojin nudges Jihoon’s shoulder. “Loser treats winner to bubble tea.”

Jihoon nudges Woojin back, because he has self-destructive tendencies. “Losing five dollars doesn’t sound like fun to me.”

“You have that little faith in Jisung?”

“Only when alcohol’s involved,” Jihoon deadpans.

Woojin laughs again, and this time Jihoon allows himself a look. The snaggletooth on full display, the nose wrinkles, the half-crescent eyes. In a few seconds, this look is going to vanish along with Woojin’s interest, and Jihoon will be left alone sitting against the wall.

 “Let’s bet on Jinyoung and Daehwi,” Jihoon blurts out.

Woojin raises his eyebrows and scans the living room for the two. Daehwi’s perched on a couch arm, talking to Youngmin and Donghyun. A few metres away, Jinyoung sips his drink.

“I bet Jinyoung’s going to make a move on Daehwi tonight,” Jihoon says. “He’s going to kiss him when the ball drops.”

Woojin widens his eyes. “No way. Jinyoung’s so painfully shy.”

“Yeah, but he’s also painfully in love with Daehwi.”

“If anything, Daehwi will be the one to make the move.”

“Later, probably. He’s not the type to use New Years as an excuse to kiss his crush. Not that it’s a bad thing. Jinyoung just needs the extra boost.”

Woojin keeps his eyes trained on the pair in question. Jihoon finds his focus adorable. “Even if he has the extra boost, I doubt he’d do it in front of all their friends.”

“Sounds like we have a bet.”

“I can’t imagine how he’ll go about it.” Woojin turns to Jihoon and does his best to mimic Jinyoung. “ _‘E-excuse me, um, Daehwi, I – uh, can I –?’_ ”

“I think he’d just go for it. I mean, look at his cute, little face.” Jihoon gestures to Jinyoung, who’s laughing at something Guanlin said. “He’d just turn his big, pretty eyes on Daehwi and game over.”

The music cuts. The two lapse into silence as they watch Guanlin hop over to distract Youngmin and Donghyun, pointing them to the big screen where the countdown is beginning.

“ _Ten!_ ”

Jinyoung inches towards Daehwi.

“He’s going to do it,” Woojin breathes out in wonder.

“ _Nine!_ ”

Jihoon turns to Woojin. “E-excuse me, um, Woojin, I – uh.”

Woojin bursts out laughing, and Jihoon feels a little drunk, even though he didn’t have anything but water all night.

“ _Eight!_ ”

“ _Seven!_ ”

Woojin settles his weight against Jihoon’s side.

“ _Six!_ ”

Someone’s leaning forward, and Jihoon can’t tell who, but it doesn’t matter.

“ _Five!_ ”

It doesn’t matter because Chungah screams “Happy New Years!” at no one in particular and bumps into Woojin as she slides to the ground beside him. Woojin’s elbow accidentally jabs into Jihoon’s ribs.

Woojin’s laughing, but Jihoon isn’t when he says, “You’re early.”

“ _Four!_ ”

“I’ll just have to say it twice now,” Chungah laughs, dropping her head onto Woojin’s shoulder.

“Now you gotta make twice the number of resolutions,” Woojin says.

“ _Three!_ ”

“Awh, no fair.” Chungah lifts her head, staring at Woojin. “Wait, I already thought of one. Be the first one to kiss Woojinnie in 2016.”

“ _Two!_ ”

As simple as that, Chungah tilts her head up and Woojin leans down towards her. They kiss a beat before the countdown ends.

 

 

__

* * *

 

 

 

 **December 31, 2016 –** 11 : **57 PM**

Jihoon’s in the midst of a conversation with Minhyun when Woojin slides in, smooth as ever, and drops a brownie onto Jihoon’s plate.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Minhyun says with a look at Jihoon before walking away.

Jihoon doesn’t like that look. It’s expectations and hope and everything Jihoon can’t risk to think about during their senior year.

“Where did you find this?” Jihoon asks without missing a beat. “I thought Sungwoon quit the brownies.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Woojin says with a wink. Jihoon kind of hates him. “And that means I can persuade you to dance tonight too!”

“Not a fat chance.”

“C’mon, they’re playing your favourite song.” Woojin grabs onto Jihoon’s arm and tugs him gently.

“ _SexyBack_?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow.

“I know you secretly jam to that when you think no one’s watching.”

“So why would I jam to it when everyone _is_ watching?”

“Ugh, you and your logic,” Woojin grimaces. “It’s our last year together. It’s our last chance!”

“You leave in August, what do you mean? We still have half a year left.”

“Jihoon – ”

“There you are!” Chungah loops an arm around Woojin’s neck and salutes Jihoon. “Everyone’s missing you out there.”

“But – ”

“Take him.” Jihoon laughs and makes shooing motions. _Go_ , he mouths to Woojin, who frowns back, but lets himself get dragged back to the dance floor.

Jihoon turns his back on the scene to find a place to sit. The couch is taken by Jinyoung with Daehwi in his lap, the floor’s all filled with feet or snacks, and the chairs have clothes piled on top.

Jihoon climbs onto the table, since for once, Woojin’s not occupying it as his solo stage. He stares out at the mass of his friends and classmates out on the dance floor. It’s not difficult to find Woojin’s red hair, even in the dim lighting. The way Woojin moves is eye-catching, even when he’s not trying. All fluid, precise movements in comparison to everyone else’s careless, inebriated limbs.

At one point, Woojin notices that Jihoon’s watching and makes a _come-here_ gesture. Jihoon takes a large bite out of his brownie in response. Woojin tucks his hands under his armpits and flaps his arms like a chicken, lifting one challenging eyebrow. He stops, laughing his signature, high-pitched laugh, when Jihoon flips him off.

Jihoon’s going to miss this.

Sungwoon’s living room, where they held most of their parties. All the people Jihoon’s grown to know over the span of four years at high school, people he can’t imagine not being in his life in eight months. Jisung groaning about his hangovers and bad decisions, Daniel laughing about anything that exists, Seungwoo being a little shit to everyone, Minhyun’s omniscient advice, and…

And Woojin.

Jihoon hasn’t thought about Woojin attending a different university than him, because ever since that night two years ago, Woojin’s taken over Jihoon’s priority list. He hasn’t thought about not dropping by Woojin’s before school every morning to grab the French Vanilla that only Woojin can make. He hasn’t thought about not listening to Woojin’s dance songs for months on repeat, about not having to fight Woojin for the last word, the last chicken drumstick, the last brownie.

He hasn’t thought about losing any of this, because it’s impossible.

He knows Woojin has other close friends – best friends – but that doesn’t change how Woojin is Jihoon’s constant. Woojin has been such a permanent fixture that a life without seeing Woojin daily doesn’t make sense. And Jihoon’s okay with it. He’s always been okay with knowing he’s not always Woojin’s first choice, always been satisfied with being just an option for Woojin.

But maybe he shouldn’t be. Maybe change is good, maybe Woojin will grow out of being his constant. But for now, they still have six months before Woojin flies out of the city.

Someone cuts the music, and he hears Jisung yell, “It’s almost midnight!”

Everyone, as a whole, turns their heads to the screen displaying the giant ball and the numbers counting down. Everyone, except for two.

_“Ten!”_

Jihoon’s eyes settle on one person only, the same person it’s always been, and Woojin stares right back at him.

“ _Nine!_ ”

Woojin tilts his head, eyebrows raised. He breaks out into a beautiful grin that Jihoon can feel all the way across the room.

“ _Eight!_ ”

Woojin makes his _come-here_ motion again and Jihoon doesn’t bite his brownie, doesn’t flip him off. He tenses up. He’s going to do it. He’s going to jump off the table and make his way to Woojin.

“ _Seven!_ ”

“ _Six!_ ”

Jihoon jumps down the second Woojin breaks away from the crowd of people and he’s weaving in and out, he’s coming to Jihoon.

“ _Five!_ ”

And then Jaehwan backs up into Woojin accidentally. Everything stops. Jihoon watches it all happen in slow motion. Jaehwan’s face breaks into a giant grin as he clasps two hands onto Woojin’s cheeks.

 _“Four!_ ”

Jihoon doesn’t know why he does this, why he lets himself stand there as it unfolds before him.

“ _Three!”_

Woojin leans toward Jaehwan, and Jaehwan leans toward Woojin.

“ _Two!_ ”

And they kiss.

“ _One!_ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **December 31, 2017 –** 10 : **00 PM**

“I think that’s the last of it,” Sungwoon says, arms on his hips as he surveys the living room. The room’s spotless, with platters of snacks on the kitchen counter. In a few hours, everything’s going to look like a tornado swept through the room, but it’s Sungwoon, and he takes pride in his parties.

“It looks good,” Jihoon says.

“So do you.” Sungwoon winks. “Thanks for helping me set up.”

Jihoon smiles, fluffing the pillows on the couch to distract himself from the nerves. He spent an hour choosing his outfit for tonight, something new but casual, looks put together but effortless. He settled with a pink cardigan over a white shirt, jeans, and a beanie because he didn’t know what to do with his hair.

It’s dumb, how nervous he is. How much thought he put into an outfit he could have chosen in 2 seconds flat.

“Hey,” Sungwoon calls him over. He tosses a bottle to Jihoon, who manages to catch it. “It’s cologne. I’ll let you use it because you look like you’re going to combust the second someone walks through that door.”

“I won’t combust before eating your famous brownies,” Jihoon replies while spraying himself. It smells nice, kind of sweet and pine-y.

“Right, unless it’s Woojin.”

“ _Sungwoon_.” Jihoon throws a pillow at Sungwoon, who catches it, laughing. 

The doorbell rings, startling Jihoon. Sungwoon laughs louder while making his way to the door, and even louder when it’s only Seonho and Guanlin.

The routine continues like this for a few other people, so Jihoon tries to distract himself with catching up with his old classmates. It’s only been four months with them all in university, and they’ve all already changed so much. Jihoon’s seen the changes on social media, like dyed hair or tattoos or make-up, but there’s also changes in personality and behaviour that throw him off.

It makes him wonder how much Woojin’s changed.

They still text regularly, even more than before, if possible, since there’s so much to tell each other and they barely have time to call or Skype for long. Woojin still sounds like Woojin, still talks like Woojin, but he’s too distant for Jihoon to make sure.

Jihoon’s in the bathroom when Woojin arrives.

It’s so like them, their timing always slightly off. But it doesn’t matter, because Jihoon walks down the stairs, and he sees Woojin talking to Guanlin by the door as he takes his coat off. Guanlin makes eye contact with Jihoon and points to him.

 _No,_ Jihoon wants to shout at him, _I’m not ready yet._

Then Woojin turns and sees Jihoon and Jihoon sees him.

All the muscles in Jihoon’s body freeze up, because it’s too much, it’s four months in withdrawal until this moment.

It’s okay, though, because Woojin doesn’t miss a beat before waving thanks to Guanlin and striding through the crowd, past chairs and the snack table, all the way to sweep Jihoon into the warmest hug.

Jihoon’s breath is knocked out with the impact of Woojin, of this new Woojin that still feels like the old Woojin.

“Next time, let me fly back for Thanksgiving,” Woojin says into Jihoon’s ear. “I can’t do another four months away from here.”

Jihoon shivers. “You said yourself it was too expensive.”

“Let me stay here then.”

“Don’t be an idiot. You paid tuition.”

“I missed you.”

Jihoon’s hands tighten against Woojin’s black shirt. He’s in all black, which shouldn’t be anything new, but –

“Your hair,” Jihoon says.

Woojin pulls back, hand raised to run through his black hair self-consciously. They’re styled, too, curled slightly from the usual floppy bangs. “You know I’ve always liked black.”

“When did this happen?”

“Two days ago. Literally four hours before I got on my flight.”

 _You didn’t tell me_? Jihoon wants to ask. But he knows how it’ll sound. Instead, he bumps Woojin’s shoulder. “Now you won’t stop traffic anymore with your streetlight hair.”

“Ha. Original.” Woojin jostles Jihoon back. “I know that’s your way of saying you like it.”

“When are you leaving again?”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?” Woojin fake-pouts, which looks ridiculous in his all-black ensemble. He slings an arm over Jihoon’s neck and tightens, putting him in a choke-hold. “Well, sucks to be you, because I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

 

 

 

One would think that four months separated would mean Jihoon would be glued to Woojin’s hip. But instead, it’s what Jihoon hoped would happen. They split up soon after, since they text often enough that there’s no need for catching up, so they spend the rest of the time talking with their old classmates.

Seongwoo has decided to pursue theatre, while Daniel is still debating between keeping dance as a hobby or choosing it as a major. Guanlin, Daehwi, and Jinyoung are still in high school, but they’ve all matured so much in just a span of a few months – especially Jinyoung, with his burst of confidence senior year. Jisung’s starting teacher’s college, which surprises no one. Minhyun’s going to grad school with Jonghyun and Jaehwan has a regular gig at a local coffee shop. Sungwoon’s thinking of starting his own vocal training business.

Everyone’s moving on with their lives one by one, except Jihoon. He’s still in their hometown – although he’s not the only one, he still feels like the only one stuck in their high school days.

It’s a little awkward, too, trying to reconnect. People hang by the walls, lingering with their closest friends, and only a few people are bobbing their heads on the dance floor – no windmill arms or Elvis legs to be seen.

Until someone (Daniel) breaks out the alcohol.

Soon, with time and a few drinks, the flailing dancing has started up, with Woojin dead centre. More clumps of people, occasional familiar yelling across the room.

Jihoon’s in the middle of arguing with Jaehwan over how he resembles a pig in his pink cardigan – some things never change – when he reaches for the last brownie to destress, and his fingers grab air.

“No,” Jihoon whispers to the empty plate. “I did not suffer through five minutes of Jaehwan’s fashion critique to lose my brownie.”

“Who said you lost it?” Jihoon looks up at a grinning Woojin with the stolen brownie on his plate.

“Oh? Is that Minhyun?” Jaehwan makes a show of peering into the crowd. “Guess I better leave you two to it. Don’t kill each other.”

Jihoon stares after Jaehwan’s sudden departure, hit with a sense of déjà vu. But he’s soon distracted when Woojin waves the brownie under his nose.

“Don’t do this to me.” He glares at Woojin.

Woojin lets slip his snaggletooth. “I’ll let you have it if you dance with me.”

“Will you let it drop? My idea of fun doesn’t include rubbing against drunk –”

“Who said we had to dance with everyone else?”

Jihoon blinks. He knows he should much rather dance with his drunk, uncoordinated classmates than alone with Woojin. It’s safer, but Woojin’s walking away with the plate in the air like a trophy, and he looks so good today in his favourite ripped jeans and a black button-down Jihoon hasn’t seen before.

So Jihoon follows.

Like habit, he follows as Woojin weaves in between clumps of people until they’re in the kitchen. The wide room feels narrow, even though it’s just the two of them.

It’s awkward. It’s not like them, the stifling pause.

Woojin puts the plate on the counter and slides it over. Jihoon leaves it.

“Hey,” Woojin says. “Listen.”

The music is muffled, but Jihoon recognizes the song. “Oh my god. Is this –”

“It’s our song.”

“- _SexyBack_?”

“Perfect for the holidays.”

Jihoon laughs, tension draining out. Woojin always had that effect on him, always knew what to say or do to pull out a laugh from Jihoon.

“I’m not dancing to this.”

“That’s not what fourteen-year-old you said when you danced to this for the school talent show.”

“Alright, says the guy with a thousand embarrassing videos on Youtube.”

Woojin makes a face. “Not my fault my friends are assholes. Present company included.”

“That’s not how you get a guy to dance.”

“Oh yeah?” Woojin raises an eyebrow. “Want to show me how, then?”

As if on cue, the next song to play is _Baby, It’s Cold Outside._ It’s the holiday spirit, the three cans of beer, the timing. It’s Woojin’s single perfectly raised eyebrow, the hint of a smile.

So Jihoon steps closer, slips his hand into Woojin’s, and his other arm around Woojin’s waist. He may be tipsy, and he may not be as good a dancer as Woojin, but he’s rehearsed enough choreographies to know what to do with his limbs.

Woojin whistles low. “If I knew this was the song to get you dancing, I would have bugged Sungwoon to play it years ago.”

“Woojin.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

With the lack of distance, the abundance of body heat, Jihoon can’t get his mind to form responses to Woojin’s piles of comments. It’s too much to expect him to be holding Woojin’s hand, to be _slow dancing_ with Woojin, and say something only half-idiotic.

The three minutes pass like molasses, sickeningly sweet and slow. They’re only a wall away from everyone else, but it feels like they’re in their own little, private world.

Jihoon thought he was doing okay the past few months, he really did. He has a few people he hangs out with regularly, and only thinks of Woojin when they contact each other. He’s stopped drinking French Vanilla and deleted Woojin’s dance songs from his phone. He thought he changed.

He has never been more wrong.

His heart still beats like a drum, at a skittering tempo, when Woojin gets too close. He still relaxes immediately once hearing Woojin’s voice. He still gives in, all the time, no matter what.

So Jihoon pulls away when the song fades. He drops Woojin’s hand and takes a step back.

Or, at least, he tries to. Before he gets too far, Woojin wraps two arms around Jihoon, keeping him still.

“Woojin?” Jihoon’s voice is muffled into Woojin’s shoulder.

“We can’t stop now. It’s our song.”

 _Somebody Else._ The 1975. “You say that to every song.”

“Just humour me, okay?”

It takes a moment, but Jihoon nods, chin against Woojin’s shirt. Slowly, he lifts his arms and holds Woojin by the waist. They’re more hugging than dancing, but Jihoon doesn’t mind. He doubts Woojin does, either.

“Your cardigan’s nice. Soft,” Woojin says quietly. “New.”

“I bought it last week.”

“New cologne, too?”

Jihoon leans back, which is a little of a miscalculation on his part because he and Woojin are almost the same height, so there’s only an inch between their noses. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Why are you asking about my clothes and cologne? Do you not like them?”

“No, no, I like them. They’re just, uh, different.” Woojin’s shoulders drop, something Jihoon only notices because of their proximity. “You’re different.”

Jihoon barely restrains his scoff. “I’m probably the least changed person here. Half the people here dyed their hair, including you, and Jonghyun even got a tattoo. _Jonghyun._ ”

“Jonghyun’s not you. You’re still different.” Jihoon loosens his grip, which causes Woojin to drop his arms, too. “You didn’t jump on the last brownie, even though it’s sitting _right there._ You’re wearing some new, fancy cologne and new clothes and you act different. You’re more – more quiet and toned down. Distant.”

“That’s because – you. I mean, you just forgot what I was like after not seeing me for a few months. You’re not used to it anymore.”

Woojin stays quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t think I can ever get used to you.”

“What are you _on_?” Jihoon blurts out, not to be funny but out of actual confusion. He picks up the brownie and inspects it closely. “Is there weed in this?”

“I’m serious.”

Jihoon drops the brownie on the plate. Woojin’s eyes flicker from the ground to the abandoned brownie.

“ _I’m_ serious,” Jihoon says. “What do you mean I changed? You’re not used to me? You’re the only one who knows I thought I lost my phone when I actually just left it in my closet for a month. You’re the only one who’s seen me in my dumb Harry Potter glasses. You know me better than even my own parents, than _myself_.”

Woojin mumbles something that Jihoon doesn't catch, which only annoys him further.

He doesn’t understand why Woojin’s acting like Jihoon became some whole other person in the span of a few month, why he’s even bothered in the first place. So what if Jihoon bought new clothes and wore a different cologne? What’s the big deal if Jihoon didn’t talk as much as before? Everyone else is allowed to dye their hair, adopt new slang, and reinvent themselves, except for Jihoon?

“I’m not going to ask you to repeat yourself,” Jihoon says. “I just need to understand why I’m not allowed to change.”

Another long pause. The wait actually calms Jihoon down, since Woojin usually speaks quickly, words coming out into a jumbled mess. So by taking his time to answer, Jihoon can tell Woojin actually is sincere.

Finally, Woojin says, “It’s not that you’re not allowed to change. It’s that I wasn’t here when you did.”

Jihoon takes a moment. “What?”

“I’m saying that I hate being away from you.”

His heartbeat is amplified, drowning out the music. There’s no way Woojin can’t see what he’s doing to Jihoon, from the hug to the dancing to this – whatever _this_ is.

Before Jihoon can even attempt at gathering his thoughts over the sound of his jackrabbit pulse, Jaehwan strides into the kitchen and exclaims, “Oh, there you two are! The countdown’s going to start soon, so y’all should head out.”

Woojin exhales. “Can you give us a second?”

“You always hog Jihoon to yourself. You’ve had every second of the past four years with him. I think you can miss one.” Jaehwan wraps an arm around Woojin, because he knows if he tries that with Jihoon, he’ll lose an arm. With his other hand, Jaehwan grabs the brownie. “Ooh, can I have this?”

Jihoon meets Woojin’s eyes. “It’s all yours.”

“Wow, was Jihoon actually nice to me for once? Someone film this, it’s going in my biography.”

Jaehwan keeps babbling as he all but drags Woojin out of the room. Woojin cranes his head to look back at Jihoon. Yeah, Woojin changed, but Jihoon can still easily translate the puppy-dog eyes and raised eyebrows into _follow me._

He can still read Woojin like a book, but this time, he won’t listen.

Jihoon waits a few seconds after Woojin and Jaehwan are gone before darting through the other doorway, which leads to the back entrance. He opens the door to a gust of cold air, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to get out.

He can’t be in there and watch Woojin kiss someone else at _one_ , not after everything.

The music cuts, and Jihoon lets out a slow, steady exhale, watching his breath turn visible. Even though his heart clenches, he’s learned his lesson now, so he’s okay. He’s safe.

“ _Ten!_ ”

“ _Nine!”_

Jihoon wraps his arms around himself, but he doesn’t regret his decision. The cold is nothing compared to repeating the worst ten seconds of his year.

“ _Eight!”_

“ _Seven!”_

_“Six!”_

Someone opens the door behind him. Jihoon whirls around, and his heart leaps into his throat.

_“Five!”_

Woojin wastes no time, not even a second for words, and goes straight for Jihoon.

_“Four!”_

Jihoon’s seen that determined expression thousands of times before, but this time, Woojin’s goal is him.

 _“Three!_ ”

Woojin’s hands are warm on Jihoon’s frozen cheeks.

“ _Two!”_

Jihoon closes his eyes.

_“One!”_

And they kiss.

 

 

 

And they kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss.

They kiss until Woojin’s hands are as cold as Jihoon’s cheeks because neither of them were smart enough to wear a jacket out. They kiss until they run out of breath, and even then, Woojin can’t keep his lips away.

Jihoon pulls away, breath coming out in puffs. But Woojin just follows him, leaning in.

“Woo – ” Kiss. “ – Jin.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. Jihoon finally pushes Woojin away, holding him an arm’s length away. “Oh my god, just let me talk!”

Woojin says, “It’s not enough.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said in the kitchen, what you didn’t hear. It’s not enough. I know that I know you best, but it’s still not enough.”

Jihoon lets his arm fall. “You know pretty much everything about me.”

“No, I don’t. And even if I did, it still won’t be enough, because you’re always going to change, and I barely kept up when we practically lived together. I knew you were going to leave me behind when we left for uni, but I didn’t think you were going to be this far from me.”

“We’re pretty damn close right now,” Jihoon says, lips curving into a smile.

“Not enough,” Woojin says and leans in even closer. Jihoon tenses, thinking he’s going for another kiss, but instead, he just wraps his arms around Jihoon and rests his chin on Jihoon’s shoulder.

Jihoon says softly, “I hated New Years the most.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I still went because you always asked. Even though you’re the reason why I hated going.”

Woojin stifles a laugh into Jihoon’s shoulder. “I always wanted to go because I was going to pull a Jinyoung.”

Jihoon, startled, pulls back so he can see Woojin face-to-face. It’s probably a mistake, since his mind stops working with Woojin’s flushed cheeks and kissed lips up close. Closer, and closer, because Woojin’s leaning in again.

Until Jihoon turns away and sneezes into his sleeve.

Immediately, Woojin turns into mom mode. “Oh, you’ve been out here for a while. You idiot, you didn’t even bring a jacket with you.”

“Shut up. Neither did you.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on being out here for this long.” Woojin wraps an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders, rubbing his arms to warm him up, and directs him into the house. “Honestly, watch as you catch a cold tomorrow.”

“Don’t think that’s how it works,” Jihoon says, but his sniffles just make Woojin shake his head.

They relocate to the foyer, where Woojin left his jacket. He grabs it off the hanger and looks through the closet for Jihoon’s. The music started up again, something hyper to start off the new year.

“Where did you leave your coat?”

“Upstairs. Doesn’t matter though, I don’t need it.” To prove his point, Jihoon plops down on the stairs.

Woojin shoots him a look. “You’re going to catch pneumonia.”

“Told you, that’s not how it works.”

“Fine, then. Guess we’ll have to share.”

Woojin sits next to Jihoon and drapes the jacket around the two of them like a blanket.

Without any preamble, Woojin continues, “I was hoping to kiss you during the New Years countdown. That’s why I always asked you to come with.”

Jihoon laughs to hide his flush. “I don’t believe that. You always ended up kissing someone else.”

“Because I chickened out! They were right there, and I just – I don’t know. Past me was stupid.”

“Yeah, you were. I thought you didn’t like me.”

Woojin nudges Jihoon. “Past you was stupid too. You should have known that’s impossible.”

“I knew you liked me as a friend, otherwise you wouldn’t have made me coffee everyday,” Jihoon says, nudging Woojin back. “But, I didn’t think you wanted what I wanted.”

“And what did you want?”

Jihoon hums along to the song in the background for a moment, thinking. “Something selfish.”

Woojin rolls his eyes. “I think everyone in this house, in this neighbourhood, in this _town_ , knows how much I spoil you. There’s nothing wrong with being selfish with me.”

“I wanted to be your constant,” Jihoon says quietly, resting his chin on his bent knees. “That’s why I got a little irritated when you said I changed, because it’s like you’re saying you didn’t know me anymore. Like we weren’t as close as I thought, like you couldn’t see who I was underneath the superficial changes.”

“I was scared,” Woojin breathes out. “You felt shut off to me. Like, you were there right beside me, but really, you were lightyears away. And I hated that. I’m selfish, too, you know? I _had_ to be the one who knew you best, who people would ask questions about you to because that’s how close I was to you. And when I saw how you changed in just four months, it felt like you were leaving me, like I just – I don’t know. I was dumb. Insecure.”

Jihoon shifts to rest his head on Woojin’s shoulder, partly to hide his face and partly because he wants to get closer. He just knows what kind of idiotic expression he’s wearing, all gooey eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” Jihoon says, half into Woojin’s shoulder. “Now you’ll never be able to get rid of me. I’ll stick to you forever, like an annoying piece of gum.”

“Good thing I like gum,” Woojin says. Without looking, Jihoon knows his snaggletooth’s making an appearance. “Almost as much as I like your dumb face.”

Jihoon lifts his head and glares at Woojin, pinching him in the side. “Okay, I’m not the one who tried to follow Jinyoung for love advice.”

“I’m not the one who thought I had a thing for Jaehwan just because of a peck. _Jaehwan._ Kim Jaehwan.”

“I’m not the one who – _mmph_!”

Woojin effectively cuts off Jihoon’s next words with a kiss, all sweet and soft and smiling. It lasts a while, and Jihoon’s back is pressed up uncomfortably against the railing, but Woojin’s hands are warm and he tastes like brownies and Jihoon can’t bring himself to stop.

Eventually, Woojin relents and pulls back with a smug grin.

“That’s getting old.” Jihoon says, still leaning against the railing and trying to catch his breath. “You have to think of more original ways to win our arguments.”

“So you admit I win?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You just said –”

This time, Jihoon yanks Woojin towards him, and they’re more laughing against each other’s lips than kissing, but Jihoon doesn’t care.

From now on, he doesn’t have to wait for December 31's midnights for a chance to kiss Park Woojin.

 

 

 

 


End file.
